


Pillar

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis needs to be alone.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	Pillar

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s a chore to pack everything up again, but they’ll be on the road in the morning, off to another hill in the middle of nowhere, or an outpost or a rundown motel—accommodations decidedly _lacking_ compared to the apartment Ignis once lived in. It’s _nothing_ compared to the Citadel or Noctis’ lavish place, Gladiolus’ family home, or even Prompto’s parents’ house. But they’ve spent so many nights under the stars that Ignis hardly notices anymore. It isn’t about his surroundings anyway, more about the company. He couldn’t choose three better roommates. Prompto even drifts over near the end to help him pack up the dishes, and then everything’s tucked away like dinner never happened. There’s a hole in Ignis’ stomach that whispers it doesn’t happen enough, but they’re running low on supplies, and he serves himself last. He wouldn’t change that. When they emerge from the tent, Prompto wanders over to the fire and plops himself down near Gladiolus’ hulking figure, sprawled out in a deck chair. Neither of them says a word, and Ignis doesn’t either. It’s been a somber day, like too many lately.

They drove through an outpost in the evening, refueled the Regalia and caught a radio broadcast detailing the ongoing horrors of Insomnia’s occupation. Ignis watched Noctis tense up worse with every word, and then they all piled back in the car and spent the rest of the night in silence. Dinner tasted hollow. It’s long past dark, and they should probably all be sleeping, but no one seems to want to be left alone with nightmares. Gladiolus is staring at his phone’s screen like another few levels in King’s Knight will block out the real world. Prompto’s looking over his shoulder at their fourth companion, all the way up the grassy hill. When Ignis follows that gaze, Prompto mumbles, “I wanted to hug him or something, but... he said he wanted to be alone.”

“Leave him,” Gladiolus grunts. “He’s in one of his moods.”

They all are. But it hit Noctis hardest. Ignis stalks forward automatically, ignoring Gladiolus’ quiet, “Iggy...”

Maybe Noctis does want to be alone, but that never applies to Ignis—the one person he’s _always_ had with him. He loves his shield and best friend, but Ignis is different, knows that in his heart and keeps moving, out of the shallow glow of the campfire and over the damp grass. He wades up the hill into the cold breeze, eyes fixed on the only thing he ever cares about. At the top, he kneels down behind Noctis, spreading himself open. His arms wrap around Noctis from either side, and he pulls Noctis back against him, as much for himself as his beloved prince. Noctis’ breath hitches, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t talk. He lets Ignis envelop him in a crushing embrace and curl up around him. 

There’s a quiet moment where Noctis is silent, cuddly yet still, a beautiful doll in Ignis’ arms. Ignis tucks his chin over Noctis’ shoulder, breath ghosting across Noctis’ cheek. He doesn’t watch the stars like Noctis, because the most heavenly thing is right on Eos with him. Then Noctis turns his face towards Ignis and closes his eyes, muttering bitterly, “I know I need to stop moping—I don’t need a lecture.”

Ignis wasn’t going to give him one. Not this time. Ignis hums acknowledgement and offers nothing else, because he knows how these moods are—Noctis does want to be _almost_ alone. He’ll just do it with Ignis all around him. He seems to stew in his own thoughts for a little while, accepting the touch for what it is. 

Then he reaches back to cup Ignis’ face. He strokes Ignis’ cheek, looking back just enough for their eyes to catch. The angle’s awkward but works. Noctis’ blunt fingernails drag down Ignis’ jaw, and Ignis turns to place a firm, warm kiss on his new king’s palm. 

Noctis’ eyes scrunch closed again. He presses his face into Ignis’, not a kiss but the equivalent, intimate and sweet, like how they used to snuggle up together when they were alone and Noctis needed him most. Noctis murmurs, “Iggy... you always know just what I need.”

He needs so much more than Ignis could ever give him. In the absence of that, he still needs to be held, to be _loved_. Ignis gives that in spades. 

Ignis squeezes him tight, and they sit there for a while longer, just watching the stars.


End file.
